


Worth the Guarantee

by Violetcarson



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Communication Failure, Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Relationship Negotiation, Russian Skate Fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 05:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11571690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetcarson/pseuds/Violetcarson
Summary: Yuuri moves to Saint Petersburg, and the transition complicates things. Yuuri and Victor try to figure out how to navigate the changes in their relationship and are reminded that even the best relationships require a little bit of work. Written for the 2017 Viktuuri Reverse Bang, with art by Eli-il.





	Worth the Guarantee

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my lovely artist Ely for the inspiration. It was a pleasure to write for you, and I hope you enjoy this finished product. Thanks again to the mod for the tireless work to put this bang together. Also thanks to my wonderful beta Emma for being the best cheerleader and friend I could ask for.
> 
> The title and lyrics come from 'Give Me A Try' by the Wombats, which is a lovely song that I really associate with Victor.
> 
> Please go give some love to Ely on tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/eli-il/163245868267). 
> 
> Enjoy!

_I know, sometimes I lose the plot and I cause a scene_  
_What do you dream of on the west coast_  
_When my head is aching in GMT_  
_And I don't care why this apartment's so ice cold_  
_Let London try, it'll never swallow me whole_

_And I swear,_

_We could be gigantic, everything I need_  
_Vicodin on Sunday nights_  
_This could be worth the risk, worth the guarantee_  
_This could be the drug that doesn't bite_  
_Just give me a try_

 

* * *

 

“Are you nervous?”

Victor stopped in the middle of taking a bite of his sandwich to look askance at his phone screen.

Yuuri’s laugh came through with a crackle. It sounded musical. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s a reasonable question.”

Victor put down the sandwich, turning his full attention to the phone. “Well, I suppose I might have been nervous, if I’d had any time to be. Yakov has had me at the rink every moment I’m not asleep. I’m too tired to be nervous.”

Yuuri frowned at him, his visage backlit by the sun setting behind him as he walked home. “That sounds unreasonable. You need to rest too, occasionally.”

Victor waved his hand, dismissing the notion. “I understand where he’s coming from. I’ve barely had two weeks to prepare. I’m so out of shape.”

“Well maybe if you’d run with me instead of riding that bicycle everywhere, you’d be in better shape.”

Victor tutted at him. “Don’t question your coach’s training methods, Yuuri, that’s very rude.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “When do you need to get back to practice? Your flight to Moscow isn’t until tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, it’s tomorrow. And not for another 15 minutes. I’ve got time. And even if I didn’t, I’d still keep talking to you. You are far more important than Yakov.”

Yuuri’s answering smile was so genuine and beautiful, even over a shaky facetime connection and thousands of miles, that Victor felt the physical distance between them like a knife in his gut.

“I miss you,” Victor said.

Yuuri’s smile tightened. “I miss you too. But it’s okay. We’re almost there.”

Victor nodded, picking up his sandwich. “You’re right,” he said, taking another bite. “We just need to get through our Nationals. What about you? Are you nervous?”

“Not really.” Yuuri’s image changed, briefly going dark as he entered his family home, saying a quick greeting to his father. “I’m not particularly worried this year.”

Victor stared at him, momentarily forgetting the sandwich again. “Really?” He hoped he didn’t sound too incredulous.

“No actually,” Yuuri said, sounding thoughtful. “It’s kind of weird. I kind of expected to go into this panicking without you here. But honestly, I know I’ll be fine, and I just want to get through it and get to Russia as quickly as I can.”

“Yuuri,” Victor said slowly, drawing out the name. “I love you, so much.”

Yuuri’s blush was immediate. Victor was delighted. “Oh, um. I love you, too,” he said.

Victor grinned at him. “You’re getting cocky. It’s wonderful.”

Yuuri’s blush deepened. “Well, I mean you’ve said yourself that I don’t have too much to worry about from the other Japanese skaters,” he defended. “I’m much more worried about Four Continents, but you’ll be there for that, so it won’t be too bad.”

“Oh!” Victor said. “That reminds me! You’ve talked to Yuuko, right? She’ll be ready to facetime me when you go on for the short program?”

“Yep,” Yuuri said, dropping onto the bed in his room. Which, until very recently, had basically been their bed. And their room. Victor once again cursed the fact that he’d had to leave so soon after the Grand Prix Final. They should have been able to celebrate properly, but there just wasn’t time. “She’ll start the call right before I go on.”

“Good, and of course I want her to hand you the phone as soon as you’re off the ice. I want to be able to congratulate you immediately.” Victor finished the last bite of his sandwich, standing up from the bench. Just in time, Yakov was walking towards him from the other side of the rink, gesturing pointedly at the ice. Victor shot him a wave and focused back on the phone.

“Now who’s cocky about me winning?” Yuuri teased.

“I have absolute faith in you, Yuuri. You’ll win the Japanese Nationals, and then the Four Continents, and then we’ll see which of us wins Worlds.”

“Oh? You think you have a chance at the world title again, immediately after coming out of retirement? Big words Nikiforov.”

Victor wished vainly that he could be there in person to kiss the smirk off of Yuuri’s face.

“Victor!” Yakov yelled from where he was standing by the gate. “Back on the ice!”

Victor sighed theatrically. “It seems the time has come. Have a good night.”

“Have a good afternoon. Try and get some rest, please?”

Victor ignored another shout from Yakov, very slowly packing away his lunch. “I will. I’ll leave you a voicemail when I leave for you to wake up to. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Yuuri said again. “One more week.”

“One more week,” Victor said, and blew a kiss to his phone.

 

Victor pulled the sheets out of the dryer, sniffing to be sure they smelled clean and slightly of lilac, and carefully made the bed. He’d already polished every surface in the kitchen and hung up the pile of coats he’d dumped in the corner by his closet after arriving back from Japan. Victor hadn’t been sure what to buy when he went grocery shopping, so he grabbed a little bit of everything and stuffed it into his fridge. Most of the time the only things in the fridge were the ingredients for his standard morning smoothies and evening lean-protein-with-vegetables. He thought that maybe, finally, the apartment was ready.

And then he realized the couch was covered with dirt from where Makkachin had tracked mud in that morning and had a bit of a breakdown.

Because here’s the thing. Victor always knew his apartment was incredibly boring. The only personalized touch he’d ever added was his dog. There were almost no pictures, everything was shades of gray, and the heating system never seemed to keep the place warm enough in the winter. And being on the third floor was miserable, because Makka needed to go outside so many times a day. It wasn’t a family home, it wasn’t warm and welcoming and it didn’t have a hot spring or beautiful decorations or trees and Yuuri was going to _hate_ it. Yuuri was going to hate it, and then he was going to hate Victor, and Victor was going to lose the only good thing he had in his life besides his dog and then even Makkachin would probably abandon him and he’d be left all alone forever.

His phone went off with a ding, signaling an incoming text.

He opened it.

_Finally boarding the plane in Moscow, so I’ll land a few minutes late. Tell Makka I’m on my way! Love you, see you soon._

Victor stares at the words for a full minute, trying to calm his breathing. Then he closes his eyes and presses the screen to his lips before replying. _I can’t wait_.

 

Victor was talking almost too fast for Yuuri to keep up as they walked, pointing out landmarks, telling stories about different times he ate here or saw a show there. He’s agitated in a way Yuuri doesn’t remember ever seeing before, seeming to vibrate out of his skin with every step. Yuuri can’t get a word in edgewise.

“—And everyone will like you, don’t worry. The facilities were upgraded two years ago, so of course everything is state of the art. And there are so many great places to eat nearby, like I said, so we can definitely go somewhere nice for lunch! You’ll get to meet Mila and Georgi again, you remember Mila right? She’s been so excited to see you.”

Victor paused to take a breath and Yuuri seized the opportunity. “Yes I remember Mila, of course I do Victor, I’ve seen her at competitions for years. Look, Victor, are you okay?”

Victor blinked at him. “Yes. I’m fine.”

Yuuri sighed. “You seem a little…upset.”

Victor’s eyes widened in horror. “Upset? Of course not! Yuuri, I’m so happy to have you here, I’m so sorry if I’ve made you feel unwelcome.”

“No, it’s not that,” Yuuri began to explain, but was interrupted.

“Oi! Katsudon!” came a yell from across the street. Yuri Plisetsky ignored the crosswalk next to him and jogged across the street to them.

“Yurio,” Yuuri said. “It’s so good to see you!” As soon as Yuri was in reach, he pulled him in for a hug. Yuri squawked in distress.

“Oi, get off me. What are you hugging me for?” Yuri protested, but didn’t pull away from the embrace. Yuuri decided to count this as a win.

“We’re on our way to the rink, would you like to walk with us?” Yuuri asked, stepping back. Victor smiled at Yuri as well, but the skin around his eyes was tight.

“I probably should. Victor might get lost. And if I leave you in the dust I’ll have to listen to Mila talk about how excited she is until you get there anyway.” Yuri started walking again, back turned to them.

Yuuri turned to Victor, wanting Victor to share in his amusement about Yuri’s continued refusal to admit he liked either of them, but Victor was looking across the street, staring intently at what appeared to be an office building.

Yuri was surprisingly talkative as they continued, telling them about his last visit to his grandfather and his plans for Otabek to come visit after the season ended. “When Beka’s here, you should try to not talk to him,” he said to Victor, obviously expecting a retort, but Victor only hummed noncommittally.

By the time they made it to the rink, Yuuri was starting to get really worried, but he didn’t have the chance to pull Victor aside and talk to him because he was almost immediately surrounded by excited skaters.

He only knew a handful of them by sight from previous competitions, but they all seemed to know him. He immediately forgot most of their names as they introduced himself, and was relieved to finally see someone he actually knew. Mila is on the ice as they come in, but she immediately starts waving madly at Yuuri. Rather than getting off the ice she skated directly into the boards and reached over them to hug Yuuri. Yuuri was a bit bewildered, he’d barely spoken to Mila before. Then he remembered that she’d been one of the people to witness him getting blackout drunk and wildly gyrating all over Victor during the fateful Sochi Grand Prix Final, and sheepishly returned the embrace.

“Oh thank goodness you’re finally here. I need more support in tormenting Yuri, he’s starting to get too confident in himself and I need backup.”

Yuri growled something under his breath in Russian which Mila ignored.

“And of course, you have to let me know as soon as you and Victor have a weekend free. We’ll all have to go out together, Georgi too, and have a night on the town. Victor hasn’t been out with us in ages, but with you here he’ll have no excuse not to. We won’t bring Yuri though, his curfew is 7pm.”

There was more agitated squawking from the blond, who was starting to look even more murderous than usual, but Yuuri was beginning to feel more than a little overwhelmed. There was just a lot happening.

But Victor was watching him, a few feet away through the crowd of skaters. He smiled when he saw Yuuri looking at him, but he still had that same uncharacteristic tightness around the eyes.

Yuuri turned back to Mila and mustered a grin for her. “I’d love to.”

 

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri looked up from his phone. Victor was staring intently at him from across the table. “Yes?”

“Let’s make a cake,” Victor said, voice totally serious.

Yuuri stared at him for a moment. Victor didn’t blink. “Wait, what?”

“Let’s make a cake,” Victor said again.

“Why?” Yuuri asked.

“Well, we’re living together now.”

“And that means we have to bake a cake? Victor, we lived together in Hasetsu too.” Yuuri said, feeling even more confused.

“I know,” Victor said, still sounding completely serious. “But, it means something more now. We’re just with each other. And isn’t that something couples are supposed to do? Cook together?”

“I guess,” Yuuri said slowly. “But you know that we don’t _have_ to do things, just because other people do them.”

“Yuuri, please bake a cake with me?” Victor was always intense, always invested in their conversations, but his gaze now was heavy and felt like it was weighing Yuuri down.

“Um.” Yuuri thought about it, thought about how Victor had been so completely focused over the last week on making sure he felt welcome, making sure he felt comfortable, making sure he liked it here. He hadn’t been absentminded about anything, devoting his absolute focus in a way he almost never did off the ice. “Okay.”

“Great!” said Victor, and his entire demeanor changed instantly. Suddenly he was all carefree smiles again, bustling cheerfully out of the kitchen, pulling eggs out of the fridge and oil out of the pantry and a box—

“Wait,” said Yuuri. “Did you mean right now?”

Victor paused in assembling his ingredients to look at Yuuri in surprise. “Of course. When else?”

Yuuri felt a surge of fondness for this ridiculous man and stood up to help him.

“Here,” said Victor, handing over a bundle of blue fabric. “I bought us coordinating aprons.” He pulled out another bundle, this one bright pink. Yuuri smiled and thanked him.

Of course, Victor was a terrible cook, but they were just making cake batter out of a box, so it didn’t go too terribly. Victor pouted when he turned the mixer on too high and got batter on his eyebrow, and Yuuri couldn’t stop laughing at his put-upon expression.

Victor got his revenge when they’d put the cake in the oven and began working on the frosting. Immediately after whipping the mixture, Victor stuck his finger into and placed a dollop on Yuuri’s nose before Yuuri could react. Yuuri retaliated by putting some in Victor’s hair. And Victor upped the ante by smearing more of it across both Yuuri’s cheeks. He was laughing, mouth wide, eyes sparkling and not strained at all. Yuuri wanted to be mad, but he also had a sudden, desperate need to touch, so he made the best of it and shut Victor up by kissing him. This time when Victor’s frosting covered fingers slid into his hair, he wasn’t even annoyed.

They forgot about the cake until their kitchen started to smell suspiciously like something was burning.

“Katsuki,” Yakov grunted as Yuuri pulls his guards on.

“Yes?” Yuuri said, trying not to keep his voice steady. Try as he might, Yakov still made him nervous. Most of the time he only communicated in angry sounding grunts, and Yuuri was half convinced that Yakov hated his guts.

“You did well today.”

Yuuri swallowed his surprise and straightened up a little, trying to look professional. “Oh, thank you.”

“Vitya is an idiot, but he wasn’t wrong about you. You’ve improved significantly.”

“Thank you?” It came out like a question. Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure whether this was a compliment or an insult.

“I assume that Vitya hasn’t told you this yet, but my skaters often work with a choreographer and instructor from the Bolshoi ballet. Her name is Lilia, and Yuri has been training with her for several months now,” Yakov said, expression unreadable.

“Oh,” Yuuri said, completely confused by the direction of this conversation.

“You are welcome to train with her as well, while Vitya is working with me on his own programs.” Yakov said gruffly.

“Oh!” Yuuri said again. “Thank you! That’s very kind.”

“Good. She will be here tomorrow. You can meet her then.” He started to turn away, but paused. “You can wait for Victor outside, I need to discuss some of his elements before he leaves.” Without another word he left, yelling for Victor.

Yuuri stared after him for a moment, utterly confused. But it had been a pretty clear dismissal, and he was starting to feel uncomfortable standing there doing nothing, so he decided to follow Yakov’s advice and wait for Victor out in the lobby.

Yuri found him outside of the locker rooms, and without speaking they both sat down on a bench near the entrance to the rink.

Yuuri checked the notifications on his phone, glanced at the locker room door, and looked back at his phone. He did this repeatedly, looking back up to check every minute or so, until Yuri interrupted his thoughts, snorting derisively.

“What?” Yuuri asked.

“You can’t manage five minutes without him?” The disdain was clear in Yuri’s voice.

Yuuri frowned at him. “No, it’s not like that.” He narrowed his eyes. “And anyway, what’s wrong with me wanting to be with Victor? We’re…together okay, it makes sense that I enjoy spending time with him.”

Yuri looked pointedly at the ring on his hand. “Is the honeymoon over then?”

Yuuri blushed and ignored him, turning away. Yuri scoffed at him behind his back.

They were silent for a minute, Yuuri pointedly not looking at the door to the locker rooms.

“Hey,” Yuri said, breaking the silence. “You know that you’re like, the first person Victor’s ever actually done this with, right? The whole long-term relationship thing?”

Yuuri didn’t look at him, instead focusing on the straps of his backpack. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Yuri said. “I’ve never seen him even try and stay for someone this long before.”

“Okay. Is that…good?” He said, still feeling a little off balance. It seemed like every interaction he had with these skaters put him off balance, and he was never quite sure what was happening in any conversation.

Yuri snorted. “How should I know?” His voice suddenly grew more serious. “Look, I know Victor is like, great or whatever, and you guys are gross. But he’s also an asshole.” He cut Yuuri off as he tried to interrupt. “Look, I know you think he’s perfect or whatever, but still.”

“I don’t think he’s perfect,” Yuuri defended.

“Whatever,” Yuri reiterated, stressing the word. “Look, just—if something happens and he like, fucks up, which he probably will, I’ll just kick his ass, okay?”

Yuuri said nothing, stunned, still staring at his backpack.

Yuri shuffled his feet in Yuuri’s periferral vision. His voice was harsher when he continued, getting defensive. “Look, just remember that he’s not the only one around here who gives a shit.” He sounded uncomfortable. “Idiot,” he tacked on at the end. Apparently the sincerity was too much for him.

Then he was up and walking out the front door. Yuuri looked up to watch him go, and was still staring by the time Victor joined him.

“What is it?” Victor asked, curiously following Yuuri’s gaze in the direction Yuri had gone.

“I’m not sure,” said Yuuri. “Probably nothing.”

 

The bar was packed with enough people that it feels claustrophobic. They were crammed into a two small table in a corner, littered with empty glasses. Mila was furiously snapchatting and Georgi was possibly asleep, head on his arms on the table, ignoring the music pounding through the speakers. Victor had disappeared twenty minutes ago to go buy them another round. Yuuri would have gone with him, but he’d taken one look at the prices on the menu earlier and immediately wanted to throw up. Yeah, he’d become a successful international athlete, but Victor’s family came from old, _old_ money, and their definitions on “too expensive” were still wildly different. It was easier for Yuuri to not think about it too much.

But Victor had left like twenty minutes ago, and now Yuuri had no idea where he was. He stood up to try and see over the crowd but found nothing. How did he manage to lose someone with bright silver hair?

Yuuri was debating whether to brave the throng himself and try to find Victor when Georgi suddenly started awake. He grunted something in Russian, looking around the table in confusion. “What—what time is it?” he said, switching back to English.

Yuuri didn’t bother looking at his watch. “Late. I think we should probably leave soon. I just need to find Victor.”

“Oh,” Georgi said, staring at his most recent beer glass. “Did you lose him?”

Yuuri suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “No I didn’t lose him. He just isn’t back yet.”

“Young love,” Georgi sighed, and drained the rest of his beer. “It’s so sweet.

“Yup,” Yuuri said, tuning Georgi out to keep scanning for Victor.

“You know, I was in love once.” Said Georgi.

“Only once?” Yuuri asked.

Georgi took a long moment to answer, pondering his now-empty glass. “Oh well, you’re right. It was more than once. But! I meant to say I was also _engaged_ once. Like you.”

“Is that so?” Yuuri hoped his tone conveyed polite interest.

“Oh yes,” said Georgi. “We got engaged after only a few months, just like you two did.” He picked up the glass, upending it like he expected more beer to suddenly appear if he only looked hard enough. “It ended tragically of course.

The muscles in Yuuri’s shoulders tightened involuntarily. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Georgi sounded forlorn now. “It was a terrible idea. Neither of us knew what we were doing, and it was too soon and too intense, and it all ended in flames.” He set the glass down. “At least I got some good choreography out of it. Hey, is Victor coming back with more beer?” He asked, voice going from forlorn to hopeful in an instant.

“I thought so, but I can’t find him,” Yuuri said through clenched teeth.

Just then he caught a flash of silver through the crowd, and Victor was walking back towards them. Next to him was a woman with long black hair and a deep blue dress. She was the kind of beautiful that seemed too good to be real. Like Victor.

They were pushing through the crowd together, and as Yuuri watched Victor bent down to better hear something she was saying, then through his head back and laughed uproariously.

Mila finally put down her phone and rejoined the conversation. “Oh look, it’s Kseniya!” she said, waving furiously at the woman next to Victor.

“Kseniya?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes, she’s with the Bolshoi Ballet. She became their prima last season, one of Lilia’s personal proteges. There was a whole mess of rumors last year that she and Victor were dating. Some of the tabloids even picked it up. Kseniya!” she called out to the woman as soon as she and Victor were close enough, and took off to throw her arms the woman. Kseniya laughed, her black curls cascading down her back in a shining wave.

Yuuri waited, growing more uncomfortable by the second, for Victor to return to the table. Victor seemed totally intent on chatting with Kseniya and Mila. Yuuri plastered on a smile and joined them, leaving Georgi alone at the table.

“Yuuri! There you are!” As soon as he was within reach, Victor pulled him into his side, wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s waist. “I was just catching up with an old friend. Kseniya, this is my fiancé, Yuuri Katsuki. Yuuri, this is Kseniya Alenina.” He smiled widely between them.

Yuuri nodded at her. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said, and Yuuri was sure he wasn’t imagining the way her eyes lingered on Victor’s arm around his waist.

He tried to ignore, focusing on the feeling of Victor’s arm pressing into his side. “Victor? It’s getting late. Maybe we should go home?”

“Oh well, I suppose.” He pulled out his phone to check the time with his free hand and sighed. “You’re probably right Yuuri, we’ve been out too long as it is. We need to get to the rink for at least a few hours tomorrow.” He turned back to Kseniya. “It was lovely to see you, as always.”

She smiled at Victor, and Yuuri couldn’t help but feel like the smile was entirely too warm. “Of course, Victor. I’ve missed our chats. We’ll have to meet up again soon. Perhaps when the season is over?”She had a much thicker accent than Victor or any of the other Russian skaters Yuuri knew.

“That would be wonderful,” Victor said. Yuuri didn’t say anything, just nodded a brief farewell.

They started to make their way out of the bar after saying their goodbyes to Mila and Georgi as well. Mila had found someone to dance with and waved them off quickly, and Georgi was already most asleep again on the table.

As they pushed their way out of the crowd, Yuuri glanced back. Kseniya was watching them leave.

Yuuri didn’t think about it on the way home. He didn’t think about it, head pressed to the glass in the taxi, leg pressed against Victor’s. Victor continued to point out landmarks and building, thrilled as ever, and Yuuri didn’t let himself think about it.

He did think about it that night, lying in bed next to Victor. He thought about what Georgi had said. Which of course was nonsense and happenstance. The two of them, together, weren’t the same situation as Georgi and one of his many failed romances. Nothing was going up in flames. They weren’t moving too fast.

He also thought, for just the barest moment, about Kseniya, about the way she’d laughed, about tabloids picking up on rumors.

He curled into Victor’s side and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of Victor’s skin. Victor’s arm tightened around him in his sleep.

 

Yuuri tried not to think about it for the rest of the week, but he couldn’t seem to get Georgi’s words out of his head. He was distracted during practice, earning concerned questions from almost everyone at the rink. He brushes them off, insisting that it’s nothing. Victor spent more and more time working with Yakov as he prepared for the European Championships, but Yuuri still had another month before the Four Continents. While most of the Russian Skaters were busy with last minute preparations, Yuuri found that he has far too much time to himself.

Two days before they were scheduled to fly out for Slovakia, Yuuri went back to the apartment alone, leaving Victor behind to argue over his jump layout with Yakov some more. Yuuri stopped by a restaurant to pick up some take out on the way, but it was cold by the time he gets inside, and he found he didn’t have much of an appetite. He laid down on the couch. Makkachin splayed himself over Yuuri’s legs. Yuuri patted his head while he scrolled idly through his phone.

Eventually Victor made it home. He bustled into the apartment with his usual loud exuberance, flinging his coat off and calling excitedly: “Yuuri! I’m home!”

“I’m right here Victor.” Makkachin leapt off of Yuuri’s legs to go greet Victor.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were there. Why are you sitting in the dark with the lights off? Did you get food? I’m starving. And I’ve got a surprise for you tonight alright, you’re going to love it.” Victor barely pauses for breath, pulling off his gloves and hat and coming to sit next to Yuuri.

Yuuri intends to ask what the surprise is, or maybe to ask how Victor’s discussion with Yakov had gone. What comes out instead is, “Victor, have you ever been in a long term relationship before?”

Yuuri wished immediately that he could take the words back and not start this conversation, but it was too late.

Victor froze in the process of sitting down, knees slightly bent, hovering awkwardly, staring at Yuuri. “What?”

Yuuri hurried to speak. “Sorry, I know that’s probably weird to be asking right now, there’s a lot going on, and honestly we probably should have had this conversation months ago. I’ve just been thinking.”

Victor slowly sank down onto the couch. “Okay.”

“I was just—“ Yuuri cast wildly for words, trying to figure out what he was trying to say and why he’d said anything in the first place. “I was just talking to Georgi, you know, the other night. And he said something that made me wonder. And it’s something we haven’t talked about, right? We’re getting married, in theory, but we’ve never really talked about things. Like that.”

“In theory?” Victor echoed, and he was starting to look almost afraid.

Yuuri winced and rushed on. “I don’t know, I was just wondering—I was wondering if, maybe, we’re taking things too fast?” The end of the question was almost a whisper.

Victor was looking down at his hands, one of which still had a glove on, and didn’t respond.

“Yuuri,” he finally said. “Are you—breaking up with me?”

“What?” Yuuri asked, his heart suddenly in his throat. “No, of course not, Victor. Of course not.”

“I don’t understand,” said Victor, and his voice was so lost and confused that Yuuri wanted to take it all back, rewind five minutes and keep his mouth shut.

“It’s just…I know that you care about me, I know that. I’m not doubting that. But Victor, I don’t know if you’ve ever been with someone long term before. I don’t know anything about your past in that way, if you’ve seen people before, men or women or anything. I just—I’m realizing now that there’s a lot I don’t know. Which doesn’t make sense. I’m supposed to know everything about you, we’re supposed to have learned these things about each other, if we’re engaged. Right?”

‘“Why does it matter?” Victor asked, his tone hardening. “Why does it matter who I’ve been with before you? Yuuri, you’re it for me. No one else matters, I thought you _knew_ that.”

“I do, I do know that,” Yuuri said, fighting to speak through the lump in his throat. “But Victor, if you’ve never been in a serious relationship before, then how would _you_ know that? It’s not like you have anything to compare against. We’ve only been together for a few months, what if it’s just, you know, something passing? Or what if we have been moving too fast and that’s going to mess it all up?”

Victor didn’t speak. Yuuri watched him intently, and when he realized that Victor’s eyes were dampening, he forgot how to breathe for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice quiet. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

He started to stand up. Makkachin bumped his head against Yuuri’s hand and whined. Yuuri patted him on the head and started to walk away from the couch. He didn’t know where he was going, there wasn’t anywhere really to go.

Victor grabbed his hand. “No, wait, Yuuri, please wait.” His voice was hoarse.

Yuuri choked back a sudden sob, struggling to keep his breathing even. “I think,” he gulped. “We should both take a minute, calm down. Maybe I can go somewhere, to Mila’s or something.”

“No,” said Victor, his voice more fierce than Yuuri had ever heard it. “No, you can’t go. Not like this. We can’t leave it like this.”

“I’ll be back Victor,” Yuuri reassured him. “We still have to pack and get ready for the flight.”

“You’re still going?” Victor asked. “To Europeans?”

“Of course I’m going. Victor, I’m not leaving you, okay, it’s just…” He trailed off.

Victor stood up suddenly. He scrubbed a hand over his face and his cheeks were blotchy as he focused back on Yuuri. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come with me,” Victor repeated, desperation creeping into his voice. “Earlier, the surprise, I wanted to show you something. Come with me, please.”

Yuuri agreed. They were silent as they got ready, pulling on their warmest coats. Makkachin followed them closely, accidentally bumping into their legs whenever they stopped moving.

They continued not to speak as they walked down the stairs of the apartment complex, Makkachin on his leash sticking closely to Victor’s side, and got into Victor’s car. Yuuri wanted to ask where they were going, but the silence between them was too heavy. Instead he leaned his head against the cold window and closed his eyes.

Victor drove to the edge of St. Peterburg and kept going, heading northeast. The lights of the city slowly faded into the distance behind them. Yuuri craned his head to look through the windshield up at the stars above. The farther away they got from the city, the more stars twinkled into view.

They drove for at least an hour barely exchanging a word. Yuuri wanted to say something, wanted to point out that it was getting late and Victor should be preparing for a major competition right now, wanted to ask where they were going. He said nothing. The radio station playing on low crackled with static.

Yuuri slipped into a light doze as they drove, and jerked awake suddenly as they came to a stop.

“We’re here.” Victor’s voice was still quiet, still tense, but he seemed more relaxed than he had been at the apartment. A small smile ticked up the corners of his lips. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we?” Yuuri asked, stretching out his muscles from the car ride. They seemed to be parked in the middle of a forest, with snow blanketing the ground all around them.

“Not too far from the city, but we had to get far enough away from the light pollution. Come on,” he said, and grabbed Yuuri’s hand, leading him away.

Yuuri first realized that they weren’t just surrounded by trees. Just visible through the trees, they were walking towards the edge of a lake. The water was almost pitch black in the night, but not quite. Reflected in the water were streaks of color. Yuuri’s gaze was drawn up to the sky as they approached the water and he gasped.

Ribbons of light stretched through the open sky before them. Long pillars of vibrant green light snaked through the air, constantly shifting and reforming. As they watched, red blossomed underneath a portion of the green, weaving in with the other color, brightening. A mix of other colors appeared, just on the edges of the spectacle, bright yellow, a hint of violet. The display was dazzling, and Yuuri couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Yuuri suddenly became aware again of Victor’s presence. He’d been so enraptured he hadn’t even noticed Victor walking up behind him. “Yeah, it’s amazing,” he breathed, and slowly leaned his weight back against Victor, cautious, unsure of his welcome. Immediately one of Victor’s arms wrapped around his waist, and Yuuri leaned into him, letting the tension drain away.

They stood there for long moments, silently watching the display.

Eventually, Victor broke the silence, whispering into Yuuri’s ear. “About earlier,” he began.

Yuuri quickly interrupted. “I’m sorry. I sprung that conversation on you after stressing about it all week, I shouldn’t have done that. I think it’s something we need to talk about it, but that wasn’t how I should have done it.”

“No, Yuuri, it’s okay,” Victor insisted. “I want you to be able to talk to me when you’re worried, and I want to be able to do the same with you. I know I’m not very good at this yet, but we need to talk to each other, and I think you’re right. We haven’t been doing that enough.”

He turned Yuuri to face him, and his features were cast in a greenish glow from the lights overhead. “Look, you’re right in that I’ve never tried to commit to a relationship like this before. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to suddenly change my mind.” He reached out a glove covered hand, placing it gently against Yuuri’s cheek. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to try with. Isn’t that enough? That we’re both trying?”

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, overwhelmed. He blinked them back open, giving Victor a watery smile. “Yeah.”

“There’s no right or wrong here. We’re not going too fast or too slow with things, we’re doing things our way. I could marry you tomorrow or ten years from now and be just as happy. As long as we’re together, that’s what matters.”

Yuuri placed his gloved hand overtop of Victor’s, pressing into the touch. “I know, you’re right. But Victor, I also want you to know that I’m happy here, with you. You don’t have to try to impress me or make sure everything’s perfect. I’m enjoying living here with you, and that’s not going to change, okay? So you don’t have to worry so much.”

Victor’s eyes seemed to twinkle in the light of the Aurora Borealis. The cold night air was starting to deaden sensation in Yuuri’s cheeks and ears, but somehow Victor looked very warm.

Makkachin barked at them suddenly, and they broke the eye contact they’d been holding. He wagged his tail when they looked down at him. He barked again, demanding their attention, and raced back over to a snow drift, burying his nose in the snow. When he lifted it up, his muzzle was covered in white.

Yuuri turned back to Victor, throwing his arms around him so he could giggle into his neck. Victor returned the embrace, leaning down to whisper into Yuuri’s ear.

“There’s no one else I’d rather be standing here with.”

Yuuri looked up at him and grinned widely. “I know,” he said, and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I always appreciate feedback if you have time to drop a line. Don't forget to stop by and give the artist some love on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/eli-il/163245868267). My own tumblr is [here](http://clearancecreedwatersurvival.tumblr.com/). Come hang out!


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